


Butterflies

by goddessofcruelty



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV), superwolf - Fandom
Genre: Ableist Language, Angst, Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:44:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2211045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/pseuds/goddessofcruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What're ya in for, big guy?”<br/>Sam looks up to see a kid leaning against the doorframe, sucking on a red lollipop. Sam watches long, elegant fingers wrap and unwrap around the white stick of the sucker a moment, before looking up into amber-gold eyes.<br/>“I see dead people.” He stretches his tall frame out on the bed and tucks his hands behind his head.<br/>“They're gonna make you cut your hair,” the boy opines, pointing the red globe of the candy at Sam's head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterflies

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: could i have some sam w/stiles like both in eichen house or the mental ward together?
> 
> Warnings: Stiles uses the term 'crazy' and 'insane' to refer to himself and his disease. Lucifer also uses derogatory terms.

“What're ya in for, big guy?”

Sam looks up to see a kid leaning against the doorframe, sucking on a red lollipop. Sam watches long, elegant fingers wrap and unwrap around the white stick of the sucker a moment, before looking up into amber-gold eyes.

“I see dead people.” He stretches his tall frame out on the bed and tucks his hands behind his head.

“They're gonna make you cut your hair,” the boy opines, pointing the red globe of the candy at Sam's head.

“They won't. It was part of the terms of surrender.”

The kid unwinds himself and stalks over, reaching out to slide his fingers through Sam's hair.

He never gets there.

Before he can touch Sam, the hunter grabs his arm and twists it, flipping their positions so that he's pinning the kid to the bed.

The kid says something. Sam leans back, letting him up enough to get some air.

“Stiles.”

Sam doesn't react.

“My name. Stiles. I'm claustrophobic.”

Sam immediately lets go and steps back. “Fuck, dude, I'm sorry. Just don't...don't touch me.”

Stiles grins and stands, waving his hands in a way that seems to say 'Don't mention it' and then pauses in the doorway, still rolling the sucker on his tongue.

“I'm not really claustrophobic. And you can pin me down any time you want, baby.” He wiggles his brows in something that looks like it's supposed to be a leer, but instead looks frankly ridiculous.

“Jesus,” Sam says, wrinkling up his nose, “What are you, like, 12?”

Stiles blows a kiss. “If that's what you like. I could call you Daddy.”

Sam turns his back and goes back to sit on the bed, ignoring Lucifer laughing at him.

“ _Aw, look at you Sammy, making friends already.”_

_-_

The next time Sam sees the kid is a few weeks later. They don't really run in the same circles.

Sam is coming back from group (which had been a waste of time with the Devil mocking the other patients in his ear) when he sees Stiles sitting all alone, curled up tightly on the window sill.

If he didn't recognize the buzzcut and the wide golden-brown eyes, Sam would have said this was a different kid.

Sam nods when Stiles glances his way, which makes the kid furrow a brow in confusion, before shrugging and looking back out the window.

Sam, curious, walks up to him and looks out the window as well.

“The Western Swallowtail.”

Sam blinks down at the kid and then back out the window into the rivulets of rain sheeting the glass. Then he shrugs and plays along. “Papilio rutulus, range: Western North America, 2-4 in wingspan.”

Stiles slowly turns his head and focuses up at Sam. Sam half-smiles. He had to do some research on butterflies for a hunt once.

The kid suddenly laughs and offers his hand. “Hi, I'm Stiles.”

Sam slowly slides his hand into the offered one. “Sam.”

“Good to meet you, Sam.” He hops off the sill, grabs the taller man's hand. “C'mon, they're serving fish fingers and custard today.”

“They're what?”

Fish fingers and custard turns out to be fish sticks and vanilla pudding, and Sam wrinkles up his nose in disgust as Stiles dips one in the other. “Dude, that's disgusting.”

Stiles points a fish stick at him. “It's good enough for the doctor.”

“What doctor?”

“Don't you watch tv?”

Sam shakes his head. “Not really.”

“Not much else to do here,” Stiles sighs, and then abruptly walks away from his half-eaten food and wanders down the hallway.

Sam furrows a brow, as Lucifer leans over his shoulder, swipes a finger through Sam's pudding. _“That kid is cuckoo.”_

-

Sam gets bored one night, picks the lock on his room, and wanders into the main office, where he starts poking through things.

 _“I'd check the file cabinet.”_ Lucifer points to it, and then reaches for the glasses left lying on the desk, perches them on his nose. _“Do these make me look smart?”_

Sam pokes through the files idly, arches his brow when he sees “Stiles” Stilinski, tugs it out and opens it on the desk.

 _“Is that even a word?”_ Lucifer asks as he peers at the kid's first name.

“Frontotemporal dementia,” Sam says aloud.

“Yep,” says a voice from the doorway, popping the 'p' sound, “I'm going crazy and then I'm going to die.”

Sam starts guiltily, and closes the folder, his first instinct is to act like he wasn't doing anything.

“It's alright, baby, I don't mind.” Stiles stalks forward with predatory grace, and then pushes Sam into the desk chair, straddles his lap. “But now you have to tell me why you're here.”

Sam shoves the kid back lightly, but Stiles is surprisingly strong and holds his place, mashes his lips against Sam's until the older man turns his head away.

“Kid, enough.”

 _“Aw, go on Sammy, live a little, have some fun.”_ Lucifer leans over his shoulder, whispers in the man's ear. _“Those lips look like they were made to-”_

Sam stands up, dumping Stiles off his lap. “I'm here because Satan talks to me.”

Stiles looks up wide-eyed. “Dude, that's _awesome_. Does he tell you to do bad things?”

Sam glares at the kid. “How did you even get out of your room?”

Stiles digs a swipe card from his pocket, wiggles those long fingers. “I'm a compulsive pickpocket.”

Sam shakes his head and offers Stiles a hand up. “Picking locks is one of my major talents.”

“I wouldn't mind finding out what other talents you might have.” Stiles leers, but Sam just rolls his eyes.

“Would you quit with the innuendo crap? I'm not going to fuck you, you're just a kid.”

Stiles laughs, sharp edged and bitter. “Twenty-two, Sammy, and I won't get much older.”

Sam looks down and away. He noticed that 'No Cure' underneath the official diagnosis.

“I'm sorry,” Sam offers, and Stiles shrugs.

“Just glad my dad bit it before I went crazy enough to remind him of my mom.”

Sam follows Stiles down the hallway to their rooms. “My dad's dead too. And mom.”

“Insane orphans unite!” Stiles fistbumps him, and then grins before sprinting down to his room. Sam watches the kid touch all four corners of his doorway before entering. “Protection spell,” his stage whisper echoes down the hallway. “Gotta keep the werewolves out.”

 _“Good thing he's pretty,”_ Lucifer opines in Sam's ear.

-

They fall into a weird routine, meeting up for lunch, tv time, and then visiting each other after hours. Sam teaches Stiles how to play poker, and Stiles shows him a few chess tricks. It's as comfortable as a partnership can be when one of them is slowly losing his mind, and the other has a constant companion whispering into his ear.

Stiles starts randomly crawling in with Sam in the middle of the night after he's had a nightmare. Looking back, Sam can't really recall when it started, but no one ever seemed to mind. Not even Lucifer. He has taken a liking to Stiles.

“What does he say about me?” Stiles asks this at least once a day.

Sam never answers, always rolls his eyes. There's no way he's repeating the lewd and suggestive things that get whispered into his ear.

-

Sam has been there for nearly a year when Stiles vanishes. No one knows where he went, except maybe the doctors and they refuse to discuss anything with Sam. He's forced to break into the office again, using the keycard Stiles had given him.

There's discharge papers to the hospital. Stiles has contracted pneumonia.

 _“Better find yourself a new boytoy,”_ Lucifer mutters from where he's playing with one of those golf tee triangle puzzles. _“That one's not coming back.”_

Sam's bed is very cold without Stiles.

-

Lucifer's wrong, Stiles does come back to him, but he's weak, frail, and Sam ends up bridal carrying him to lunch.

“I feel like a disney princess,” Stiles tries to joke, but his voice is hoarse, and his eyes are tired. Sam makes sure Stiles eats and then carries him back to Sam's room to rest. He sits leaning against the wall opposite and watches the sweep of lashes across Stiles' cheek, and the movement of his chest as he breathes.

Sam knows he's never getting out of here by now. They're out of options for him. Nothing affects the devil on his shoulder. He'll be here til he gets old and gray.

Stiles isn't going to get that chance. When he wakes up, he tells Sam that the progress of the disease is more rapid than they'd thought, no one can figure out why, but they've given him six months.

-

Stiles trudges off to his own room for evening bedcheck, and Sam lies awake thinking.

When the kid comes back at his usual time, he curls up into Sam's side, like always. Sam does something new, he turns his head and kisses the top of Stiles'.

Stiles goes very still, and then slowly turns his face up to Sam. “Dude, when I get better, I'm so going to ravish the hell out of you.”

Sam barks a laugh and shakes his head. “You're an idiot.”

Stiles manages a smirk. “Now I'm _your_ idiot.”

-

Sam manages to get Bobby to sneak him in chocolates and a couple little bottles of wine for Stiles' 24th birthday. Stiles kisses him madly when he reveals the presents. 

Sam undresses Stiles slowly, lays him out on the bed and looks into those beautiful honey-amber eyes. “You sure?”

Stiles nods several times, rapidly. “You are a go, Sammy.”

Sam narrows his eyes at the nickname, but lowers his head and licks a stripe up the underside of Stiles dick, before taking the entire length into his mouth. Stiles is already biting the back of his hand, and Sam has to curl on large paw around the kid's hip to keep him still.

Stiles has never done this before, and Sam has plenty of experience, so it's not long before he's tangling his fingers in Sam's locks in warning before salty bitterness explodes across Sam's tongue.

He suckles at it for a little longer, flicking his tongue to make sure he's got every drop, then Sam pulls back, licking his lips.

“Dude,” Stiles groans weakly, “you're fucking incredible.”

Sam laughs and stretches out next to the birthday boy, pulls him close, rests his chin on the top of Stiles' head. “You're not so bad yourself.”

-

It's not long before Stiles starts forgetting him, and Sam has to reintroduce himself with increasing frequency. Lucifer thinks it's hilarious. Especially when Stiles almost immediately hits on him. Sam makes him cards that he can carry in his pocket.

“My name is Stiles Stilinski.”

“I have a disease that makes me forget.”

“My friend's name is Sam.”

“I like fish sticks and pudding.”

Stiles doesn't come to his room sometimes, so Sam starts going to his instead. 

Sam tells Stiles stories in the darkness when he wakes up from the ever increasing nightmares, talks about how they'll go the the butterfly museum he went to as a kid, where they will just flutter down and perch on you.

He never forgets to kiss Stiles goodnight.

-

Sam's holding Stiles in his arms when the last bit of him gives way, and he slides into darkness. 

He watches through the windows as they rush Stiles away in an ambulance.

Lucifer settles a hand on his shoulder.

_“You still got me, Sammy.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I need to tag anything.
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](goddessofcruelty.tumblr.com)


End file.
